Another Bit of Flash Fiction

Social media, the repository of truths.

“Please.  I hardly know her.  We just work together.”

She wanted so much to believe him.

Buried, untagged, on Facebook:  “Hey, you’re too pretty.  Let’s hang.”

“Everyone stayed for drinks after shift but,” shrug, “she’s not my type.”

Her Instagram, photo of a beachy sunset:  “Awesome evening, awesome guy.”

“Now you’re just being crazy.”

Text while he’s in the shower, lit on his screen for the world to see:  “Hey sexy.  Can’t wait to meet up!”

“Babe, I’d never lie to you.”

She wipes a tear; she takes back his key.  “You already did.”


A Bit of Flash Fiction

This is darker and more twisted than I usually write, but I like it.  Limit 100 words with prompts that don’t really make a difference here.

Terrence, I’d heard his mommy call him before she sat down with her coffee and her phone.

So simple. Like ordering from a catalog.

Fishing line’s best for binding hands and feet. Fifty pound test won’t break and wriggling cuts easily through a child’s skin. He’s still soon enough.

Treated him same as I had my own, but he was no more special than the others. Too soon his bright blue eyes went dark. That night I pitched his sack over the railing and watched it sink in the current.

I have faith. I’ll find the one.